you just left him there

I can’t believe you just left him there, he said.

The artist shook the canister of paint.

Other men in the room quiet. The artist turned back to his canvas and sprayed green on the stencil, flushing the room to smell chemical.

Really though, I can’t believe you left him there. Just out there, alone.

What would you rather have done?

One of the other men in the room was looking at the artist, wondering how he did it: How he got rid of it.

If I’m the first case then I might have already spread it to the clerk at the gas station, he thought, and then before you know it our whole race is gone and it’s my fault all because this thing falls into my backyard, and knocks on my sliding door. Me

Everyone watching the stencil

The artists, with green stained fingers, removed the tape, and the stencil, and there it was: Staring back at them.*